


you and me, baby

by checkthemargins



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Knotting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-02
Updated: 2013-07-02
Packaged: 2017-12-16 20:09:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/866115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/checkthemargins/pseuds/checkthemargins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three or four days, stuck in a cabin alone with Louis Tomlinson. Honestly, Nick doesn't know what he did to deserve this bad karma, but he hopes it was worth it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you and me, baby

**Author's Note:**

> This was prompted by anon several hundred years ago and I have finally finished it. The prompts were "snowed in" and "Nick finds out Louis is an Omega". What follows is an overly-cliché mess of sap and porn and some more sap for good measure. Due to the time constraint of this all happening while snowed in, please suspend your disbelief. Anon I hope this is what you were looking for and I'm so sorry it took me six months to get this done. And a massive thank you to mediaville, flimsy and obstinatrix, for the beta, handholding and Brit-picking respectively.
> 
> Warning for explicit knotting sex.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** I don't own this band or this radio DJ or any of their friends/colleagues/lives. This is just for kicks.

**you and me, baby**

Nick wakes up _freezing_. And hungover. Possibly still a bit drunk. He's shaking from cold and his mouth tastes like arse and his head hurts.

It takes him a few minutes to roll out of bed, and another to feel steady enough on his feet to walk to the bathroom. The light doesn't come on when he flips the switch, but it's morning and there's a skylight, so he's not overly fussed. He takes a piss and brushes his teeth, and after a nearly scalding shower feels like he's mostly human again. He dries his hair just because it's cold, and then pulls on trackies and socks and a t-shirt and a jumper before he wanders out of his room and into the main part of the suite.

Ostensibly he's on a skiing trip, hosted by one Harry Styles. Nick hasn't even been outside in the last three days, let alone strapped on skis. He's been sober for perhaps two hours, altogether, since he arrived. He thinks it's the first time he's been up before ten o'clock, too.

The suite—a cabin, really, near the back of the resort's property—has been packed with people for days, so it's strange to see it empty, now, and oddly dark. There's a fire roaring in the fireplace, and the remnants of last night's party still strewn all over the floor and coffee table in the form of plastic drink cups, blankets, beer bottles, and empty food trays. Nick blinks at the mess, head throbbing, and wanders into the kitchen for tea.

He finds Louis there, sitting up on the counter next to the stove, looking rumpled and sleepy, wrapped up in a blanket. His hands are wrapped around a mug of tea and his phone is set next to him. Nick has never been alone in a room with Louis Tomlinson before in his life.

"Morning," he says, and then frowns at himself. Louis lifts an eyebrow and nods. Nick blinks at him, and then reaches around him for the electric kettle.

"I heated up some water," says Louis, pointing to a steaming pot on the stove. "Power's out."

"Really?" asks Nick. He scratches at his jaw. That must be why it's so cold in the cabin. "Where is everyone?"

Louis rubs his cheek against his mug like a cat, basking in the warmth, and yawns hugely before answering. "Apparently we slept through an evacuation order. Blizzard got worse. Everyone was supposed to leave the mountain. I guess you and I must've passed out about the same time, 'cause Hazza tossed us into the same bed, and neither of us woke up when they came 'round to tell everyone to leave."

Nick looks around toward the big windows on the side wall. There's snow packed three quarters of the way up. His head gives an almighty throb.

"So we're snowed in."

"Yup," says Louis unhelpfully. He's moved, slid off the counter, and Nick blinks down at him curiously when he presses a warm mug of steeping tea into his hands. He thanks him perfunctorily, still reeling. "People have been, y'know, notified. They'll get us out when they can."

"How long are they saying that will be?"

"Harry said three or four days. A warm front is supposed to come through and melt the snow."

Three or four days. Stuck in a cabin alone with no electricity with Louis Tomlinson. 

Things between him and Louis have run the gamut from competitive dislike to outright confrontation since they met. Usually it involves throwing shade at each other, on Nick's show or in a One Direction interview. It got to the point that Harry became visibly affected by their animosity toward each other. In an effort to repair their individual friendships, Nick and Louis promised to make more of an effort to get along. This has mostly manifested in uncomfortable politeness and shooting each other dirty looks while Harry's not looking, which has at least been funny.

They've never been in the same place just the two of them, though, and while part of Nick is curious at the mystery, most of him is just wary. Louis sneezes suddenly, a really soft small noise that reminds Nick of a bunny. Honestly, he's doesn't know what he did to earn this bad karma, but he hopes it was worth it. Probably that pretty kid from last month, the pretty Beta who turned out to be already mated. Nick wants to argue, because he hadn't _known_ , and he shouldn't be held responsible for that. 

For the record, he supposes it was worth it.

"At least our phones are working, I guess," says Nick. His tea is perfect, tastes like happiness. Louis is waddling around in his blanket now, up on his toes to look for something in the cabinet. They still appear to be stuffed full of food, which is a plus.

"Yeah," says Louis. He scowls, flat on his feet again. Nick watches with growing fascination as he pulls open a drawer, grabs a spatula, and uses it to knock a box of fruit snacks off the top shelf. He catches it deftly, makes a pleased chirpy sound, and doesn't bother to put the spatula away. Odd little duck.

"And your, like, handlers are okay with you just being stuck? You're a pop star."

Louis snorts, pulling open his little packet of the fruit snacks and popping one into his mouth. "I realize, Nicholas, that you've got this inflated sympathy ego for us, but pop stars aren't able to control the weather." As an afterthought, he adds, "Nor are their handlers."

Nick is too hungover to bicker with Louis, who has already had tea and probably paracetamol. "Your face," he says.

Louis laughs, like it's surprised out of him. It's probably the most genuine thing Nick's ever heard from him that isn't scathing insults of Nick's character, and it's nice. It lights his face all up, crinkles his eyes. Nick tries not to look too smug, feeling exhausted considering he's done nothing but lounge around and drink for three days.

"Shouldn't a posh place like this have a backup generator?" he asks.

Louis shrugs. "They do, but it's just partial, for the kitchen and the water heater, they said, not the radiators or anything."

Hot water and unspoilt food is a bigger priority, but Nick was wrapped under what must've been thirty blankets and duvets this morning, and was still unbearably cold.

"So we just, what, kip by the fire?" It's a scene from a bodice ripper. Nick takes a minute to picture Louis in period dress, a flowy pirate shirt and tight pants, and then in a dress like Keira Knightly wore in the first Pirates of the Carribean movie, pulled down low over his collarbones. It's hot, either way.

"I s'pose," says Louis. "We can pull a mattress in from one of the bedrooms."

Like his band did at Harry's bungalow during X-Factor. Nick bemoans the amount of One Direction trivia he knows. He clears his throat. "Yeah, sure. I guess we've already shared a bed. You didn't kick me or anything, did you? I bet you’re a kicker."

Louis chokes on his last fruit jelly, offended. Nick sips demurely at his tea and watches him sputter over the rim of his mug.

"I am not!" says Louis. "I'm the one that woke up this morning because of how loud you were _snoring_."

"Liar," says Nick at once, though honestly he has no idea. "I don't snore."

"You _do_ ," Louis insists. Nick stares at him, and Louis stares back, so Nick makes a funny face at him and Louis rolls his eyes and shoves past him out of the kitchen, tightening his blanket around his shoulders. "I'm going to take a shower."

"You need it, I can smell you from here."

"Fuck off." Louis makes it to the hallway before he stops. "Oh, and Harry wants you to call him."

He disappears before Nick can reply, and Nick stares after him, his head feeling muzzy. Louis's exactly his type, physically, and his scent has been _affecting_ since Nick met him, something _different_ and good and oddly guarded. He'd probably have spent a lot of time trying to get him into bed if it hadn't been for Louis being such an obnoxious, jealous little brat about Harry making new friends. He seems to have simmered since then, though. If Nick's going to be snowed in with Harry's twinky little monster, the least he should get is a bit of a snog out of it.

He takes a few minutes to tidy up the living room, because it's driving him crazy, and while he cleans he calls Finchy, because he's supposed to be on the radio the day after tomorrow, and then he calls his mum and dad, because they'll worry, and then Aimee, so he can chastise her for not making sure he left the resort with her when the evacuation order came through. She apologizes, but then she laughs at him for a full five minutes when he tells her he's stuck with Louis, so he hangs up on her.

Once everything's in the bin and all the bottles have been cleared and the floor is clean, he drops onto the sofa, tugs a big throw blanket over himself, and calls Harry.

"I can't believe you forgot us both."

"It's Niall's fault! He was supposed to find Louis, which would find you too since I put you both in the same room. Only he says that Perrie was going to, and Zayn says that Liam was, and Liam said that we'd all agreed that I would."

"You're all useless."

"Is Louis grumpy about it?"

"Doesn't seem to be. Doesn't seemed fussed at all, really."

"Is the heat out, too, then?"

"Yeah, it's fucking frigid in here. We'll have to stay in front of the fire."

"It's actually kind of good, really. He's needed a break. Maybe the peace and quiet will do him good, and he won't feel guilty about not working because it's not like he can control the weather."

"He's ridiculous, and argumentative. You should be feeling sorry for me."

"This is really romantic, though," says Harry. "You should cook him dinner."

"I beg your pardon," Nick says, incredulous.

"You should. You like to cook and he'd enjoy it. And then you can snuggle together under a shared blanket. You can pretend to yawn and put your arm around him while you watch films."

"The power is out, Harold."

"Right," Harry says, drawing it out like he's carefully considering alternative plans for Nick to seduce Louis Tomlinson. "You could have a bit of a snog," he says, and Nick can actually _hear_ the shrug. "But a romantic snog. A snog that will lead to sweet and tender lovemaking in front of the fire. This is actually a wonderful idea. Louis could be your mate and one true love. Can't believe I've never thought of it."

"Have you been smoking?"

"Hear me out," says Harry. "The two of you have so much in common. And you're the same, like, but in different directions."

"You are out of your fool mind."

"I know you like him. When we got drunk at the Brits after party and you guys got in that fight, you told me he had a fantastic bum."

"That has nothing to do with liking someone," Nick tells him.

"Be nice to him, okay? He had a shitty... _thing_ happen with a new security guard a couple weeks ago."

"What kind of thing?"

"Oh, you know," says Harry. "Anyway, I've got to go, Gemma's just arrived."

"Tell her I say hi."

"'Course. Be good, Nick, and you two don't kill each other."

He rings off. Nick updates his Twitter with a picture of the blocked in window ( _so much snoooooooow_ ), and then turns his phone off to save the battery and drops it on the coffee table.

Louis returns not long after, bundled up in trackies and a too-big jumper, hair free of product and falling across his forehead. He looks around the room, but doesn't say anything about Nick having tidied up (ungrateful prick), and then curls up into the cushy armchair next to the sofa with a fresh cup of tea.

"What did Harry want?" he asks, after a few minutes of awkward silence.

"He wants me to woo you over a candlelit meal and then make sweet love to you at the fireside."

Louis blinks, his mouth opening, closing, and then opening again. He tilts his head and narrows his eyes at Nick. "Did he really say that?"

"Verbatim," says Nick. "Well all right, I'm paraphrasing. He definitely said the part about making sweet love."

"He's _impossible_ ," says Louis. He sounds cross and a little fond. Nick's been there with Harry before, knows the feeling. He grins.

"He been trying to play matchmaker for you?"

"For ages," Louis groans. "Any Alpha he knows."

"Only Alphas?" Nick asks, intrigued. Liam and Harry are the only Alphas in the band. But Betas outnumber Alphas ten to one. It's not as though an Alpha is the only option for Louis.

"Yeah," Louis answers, but he looks shifty as hell and suddenly uncomfortable. Nick is the nosiest person in the world; he's completely aware of that. He doesn't bother trying to hide his intrigue.

"Personal preference?"

"Yes," says Louis, and he meets Nick's eyes like he's daring him to challenge him. "Something wrong with that?"

Nick holds up both his hands in surrender. "Not at all, love. That's a preference that suits me just fine."

Louis rolls his eyes, snorts, rather unkindly. "'Course it does. You and every other Alpha out there."

"Hey," says Nick.

"Oh, c'mon," Louis says impatiently. "The lot of you are supreme dickheads."

"Shades," Nick argues. "There are shades of dickishness, some worse than others."

Louis laughs, which is at least something. He sets his mug down on the end table between the sofa and his chair, and curls his arms around his legs. "I guess there's exceptions. Liam and Harry are lovely."

"And that Nick Grimshaw," Nick says, in an obnoxious falsetto that resembles Louis's voice not at all. "He's a perfect gentleman. And so handsome."

Louis looks unimpressed. Nick sticks his tongue out at him. It pretty much sets the tone for the rest of the day.

 

 

They spend the afternoon playing board games. Nick kicks Louis's fine round arse at Scrabble, so Louis makes them sandwiches for lunch, and then proceeds to beat Nick down at Connect Four. Around six-thirty, Nick cooks dinner (he's heard enough horror stories from when Harry lived with Louis about Louis in the kitchen), and breaks out the wine to go with it. It's nothing fancy, just a stir fry, but Louis looks impressed anyway.

They don't talk much. Or rather, Louis doesn't talk much, which is weird. Nick fills the silence, takes a few opportunities to rile Louis up just to get a reaction, which works well enough. Louis is funny and can keep up, good at banter and has a wonderfully expressive face. And, it turns out, he's a really, really precious drunk.

They make it through a bottle and a half by eight. They're sitting on either side of the coffee table, Nick on the floor and Louis on the mattress they pulled in from the nearest bedroom after they cleared away their dinner dishes. They've got a half-finished game of Double Solitaire between them, but it's mostly forgotten, Nick is resting his chin on his folded arms on the coffee table, looking up at Louis, who's pink-cheeked and glowing in the firelight, looking calm and relaxed, the circles under his eyes still obvious but less harsh.

"...an' it was just really, really _cool_ , y'know?" he's saying. He's earnest and his grin is so sweet and he's so pretty. His jumper's falling off one shoulder. He's spent the last ten minutes rambling on about the football game he played in for charity last October. Nick likes that in a year wherein One Direction performed for and met the Queen, played the Olympics, and sold out Madison Square Garden, his favorite moments seems to have been playing football in his hometown. It's charming.

"I know," says Nick, very knowledgeably. He's drunk. They're both at a pleasant stage, not wasted like they were last night. Nick feels sleepy and content, and Louis's scent is intoxicating, calming. This is a bit romantic, Nick thinks. The two of them snowed in, nothing to do but talk to each other. Louis's different like this, when other people aren't watching him, when his hair's not styled and he knows he's not being scrutinized. Nick's only ever seen him at events, backstage or onstage, out in public. This is new.

"The odd thing is," says Louis abruptly, "you're not such an arsehole when you're not trying to impress people by being a pretentious hipster wanker."

Nick barks out a laugh, and Louis breaks into uncontrollable giggles, falling over onto the mattress, rolling around. He's little, so Nick gets to his knees and shuffles around the table to see him better, laughing so hard his stomach hurts. He climbs up onto the mattress and Louis rolls to the other side, closer to the fire, to make room. They've piled all the duvets from all the beds onto it. They're engulfed in layers of blue and red and green fluff. Louis's panting for breath, looking sleepy and flushed and happy. Nick drops onto his side, rests his head on one of the pillows and pokes Louis's cheek. Louis breathes out another laugh and bats him away.

"'m sleepy," he murmurs.

Nick hefts himself up, and then takes both of Louis's hands to pull him up to. Louis's mostly dead weight, though he does try and help. It takes them much longer than it should to slip under all the blankets. Nick strips off his jumper, because he'd rather be cold than uncomfortable, and Louis watches him.

"What d'you usually wear to bed?" he asks.

"Pants," says Nick. The room is spinning, but it's kind of soothing. "You?"

Louis hums thoughtfully, and Nick settles back down on his side, tucking into the duvets. It's a big mattress. He and Louis aren't touching. "Depends," Louis says. "'Usually nothing. I get hot when I sleep."

Filthy tease. Nick reaches out immediately under the blankets to touch his chest. There's a jumper in the way, obviously, but he can feel him through it, feel his heartbeat and how warm he is. Louis quirks an eyebrow at him.

"You're pretty warm," says Nick.

Louis grins, sinks his teeth into his bottom lip. He huddles into the blankets a bit more, covers Nick's hand on his chest. Nick curls his fingers into the plush of his jumper.

"Harry did this for me," Louis murmurs. His voice is smooth, slurred. He takes a slow breath. "This ski weekend thing."

"To set you up with Alphas?"

He shakes his head slowly. "No. Not this time. He's a good guy, that Harry Styles."

"Yeah," says Nick, grinning. He likes Harry too. He turns onto his back, taking his hand back, and looks up at the spinning ceiling and the shadows shifting from the firelight. It's dark in the rest of the house. He hums tunelessly. "He said you had a thing with a security guard."

Louis's quiet for so long that Nick turns his head to look at him. He's not smiling anymore, but he doesn't look unhappy. He rubs his cheek against his pillow. "Yeah. Not a big deal, just. Kinda harassed."

"But you're Louis Tomlinson," says Nick, rather loudly, making Louis laugh. "Doesn't he know who you are?"

"Exactly," Louis agrees.

Nick grins dopily at him. "'M sorry he was a jerk."

"S'okay. I'm used to it."

Nick puts a hand on his heart, wincing. "That got me right here, Tomlinson."

Louis hides his smile behind the blankets. He's blinking a lot, and very slowly. Nick's warm and comfortable. Louis sighs gently. "I guess you're an exception too," he says. "You're all right."

Nick turns onto his belly and smiles into his pillow. He falls asleep before he can think of an answer.

 

 

He wakes up the next morning to Louis shoving more wood into the fireplace. He's lethargic and lazy and has a perfect view of Louis's bum, so he lies there quietly and watches Louis prod at the logs to keep the fire going with the poker thing, and then smiles a sleepy good morning when Louis turns around, dusting off his hands. He's obviously been up a for a while, because he's showered and is wearing a different shirt, no jumper. He frowns at Nick.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

Nick yawns at him and stretches his arms up over his head before relaxing bonelessly into the mattress again. "Don't mention it."

Louis huffs. "Still stuck," he says, waving a hand toward the windows where the snow's still piled up.

Nick shrugs. "I don't mind."

Louis tilts his head, tugging self-consciously at the hem of his t-shirt. "Yeah?"

Nick shakes his head, and sits up with a groan. He slept really well. He feels good. "S'kinda nice, innit?"

Louis looks away, grinning a bit, and Nick doesn't even know if that's what he meant by it, but it's true nonetheless. Yesterday was nice, just the two of them, no responsibilities, nothing even to argue about. 

"Yeah. I guess it's kinda nice," Louis says. His smile is shy and sweet. Nick wonders if he's up for a tumble, could be fun. Would be fun. Louis's so lovely.

He doesn't ask. Instead, they eat cereal for breakfast and Nick wanders off to shower. It feels even colder in the cabin than it did before, so he spends a long time under the hot water. He thinks vaguely of wanking, of his knot swelling up and letting loose, but he holds back instead.

When he emerges, Louis's sitting on the floor between the sofa and the coffee table, booting up his laptop. Nick leans over the back of the sofa curiously. "What's this then? Internet's down."

"I've got this one and an extra battery. Thought we could watch films, or something."

Nick perks up. "Excellent."

The cabin only has a few DVDs, most of them Marvel films, which Louis seems happy about. The laptop screen isn't huge, and they both have to sit on the sofa to see, but that's not a bad thing. He likes Louis close. He ends up watching Louis more than the film, far less subtle than he probably should be. Louis catches him a few times, gives him a questioning look, but Nick just shrugs and averts his attention to the screen again.

They make it through Iron Man and Captain America, pausing to eat a lunch of stir fry leftovers in the kitchen and to lug more wood from the basement upstairs for the fire. Louis knows every line of these movies, and he talks his favorite ones in a terrible American accent. He looks better than he did yesterday, like he's gotten some sleep.

It's four in the afternoon and Louis's just put Thor into his laptop. Nick's nodding off. It's boring and peaceful and the couch is actually very comfortable. Louis's curled into one corner, and Nick's stretched out, knees bent on the second seat, head pillowed on the armrest. He's got his eyes closed and is floating happily in the limbo between awake and asleep when Louis grips one of his ankles.

"Nick?"

"Mm?"

Louis's shifting around, the blanket they're sharing sliding down Nick's chest. Nick opens his eyes just as Louis gets to his knees, resting his hands on both of Nick's. His palms are warm through Nick's trackies. "You said Harry told you. About the security guard thing."

Nick damns his drunk mouth, but nods. "Just that there was a thing. He didn't tell me what happened. He was warning me to be nice to you."

Louis cracks a smile, and then bites at his bottom lip, unconsciously sexy. He eyes Nick cautiously. "Did he tell you about me?"

"What about you?"

Louis just stares at him, studying his face. Nick has no idea what he's talking about, but he's curious. Louis's hands squeeze right above his knees and he jerks, ticklish.

"I thought he might've. Since you two are attached at the hip."

Nick rolls his eyes and nudges Louis in the belly with his foot. "If you're just going to be cryptic and bratty you can sit back down."

Three months ago, Louis would've been screwing up his face with fury. Now he just grins and squeezes Nick's knees again to tickle him.

It's the beginning of the war.

Nick lurches up, and Louis barely has time to yelp before Nick's pinning him to the sofa, digging his fingers into his sides mercilessly. Louis dissolves into loud, helpless laughter, eyes clenching shut, arms flailing wildly as he tries to push Nick away. He kicks and he scratches and he _bites_ , but Nick doesn't relent until Louis is beyond words, tears leaking from his eyes, face red and smile huge. His stomach is going to be sore and Nick's fingers probably left bruises, and they're sprawled on the sofa long ways, Louis underneath him. Nick holds himself up with a hand on either side of Louis's head. Louis's panting, still grinning, breathless.

"Arsehole."

"You started this," Nick tells him.

Louis shifts a little, but doesn't try to get away. He bends a knee so it touches to Nick's thigh.

"Get off me," he grumbles. He shoves at Nick's shoulders and Nick hefts himself upright again, smoothing his t-shirt out and slouching comfortably into the couch again. Louis sits up, clears his throat haughtily as though Nick didn't just see him nearly in tears of laughter and flicks his fringe out of his eyes, curling back up in the corner of the sofa. Something on the screen explodes, and Nick sighs long-sufferingly and gestures lazily at Louis's laptop.

"Can we watch something without superheroes, please?" he asks. "Not that Chris Hemsworth in tights isn't easy on the eyes, but I'm looking for something a little more evolved."

"Twat," Louis says, but he points his toes at the stack of DVDs on the coffee table. "Be my guest, mate, that's all I could find."

Nick rifles through the DVDs until he finds one he doesn't recognize. It's French and has accolades from a film festival that Nick has never heard of. He grins sharply and starts it up.

It barely makes it to the menu screen, proclaiming "Subtitled in English", when Louis groans dramatically. "Are you kidding?"

"Now, now," says Nick, in his poshest accent, "you need to broaden your horizons, Tomlinson. There's more to cinematic integrity than the good guy winning in the end."

"You're going to make me read a film," Louis says unhappily. "I don't _read_. I'm rich and famous. I have people who read _for_ me."

Nick reaches past him for the remote lying on the arm of the sofa. Louis elbows him in the side, seemingly as an afterthought. Nick taps the remote against Louis's thigh. "You are the brattiest person I've ever met."

"Oh, shut up," says Louis, yawning. "Start your stupid indie hipster film then. I want a snack." It's a thing, Nick's noticed, Louis snacking. He eats bits of things six or seven times a day, and drinks more tea than anyone Nick's ever met before. Nick starts the film, but watches Louis uncurl from the sofa and crawl over the back to land cat-like on his feet. He pads into the kitchen, yawning, rubbing a hand through his mussed hair. It makes his shirt ride up, so Nick can see the give of his back at the bottom of his spine and just a sliver of his stomach when he turns around. "You want anything?"

Nick wets his throat and shakes his head. "I'm fine, love, ta."

Louis shrugs, and Nick forces himself to watch the film. There's a man and a woman arguing about the woman's high heels on the screen. She's furious, holding her shoe, her cheeks pink with anger. The man is solemn and narrow-eyed, arms crossed over his chest. She thinks he's broken her shoe on purpose, because she's taller than he is when she wears them. Nick tilts his head, intrigued.

Louis returns to the sofa with a soda and a tin of biscuits, which he rests on the empty cushion between he and Nick. Nick wonders who brought them, and then stops wondering much of anything at all when Louis pops one into his mouth and then frowns at the frosting left on his finger, slides it into his mouth and sucks, cheeks hollowing as he does. Nick watches, lips parted, as Louis moves on to lick at his thumb with quick swipes of his pink tongue.

Louis must feel Nick's eyes on him, because he turns towards him, wiping delicately at his mouth. He raises his eyebrows in a way that's meant to be challenging, but Nick can see the self-consciousness behind Louis's expression.

"What?"

"Darling, if you want me all you had to do was say so," Nick says gently. "No need to fellate your snacks."

Louis rolls his eyes but his cheeks flush just enough that Nick catches it, has to fight off a smile at how adorably indignant Louis is. Louis, normally too sharp to fluster, takes just a moment longer than usual to shove at Nick and say, "You're the one wanting to watch porn with me."

Nick quirks an eyebrow, confused, and follows Louis's gesturing hand to the laptop screen, where the man from before is now lying on bed, hand down the front of his trousers, wanking leisurely. He feels his cheeks heat up.

"I had no idea there was a scene like that in this."

"Liar," says Louis at once.

"Really!" Nick insists. Louis's grinning smugly, sitting slouched with his feet flat on the floor and his knees spread, pressing his cheek into the back cushion so he can let his eyes roam from the film to Nick and back again. The guy on screen is getting really into it, arching his back, spreading his legs wider, pushing his trousers down around his thighs. His dick is hard and big in his hand and the soft little grunts he's making are kind of hot.

"What's that like for an Alpha, anyway?" Louis asks suddenly. It's been ten minutes of silence, the both of them watching some French guy wank onscreen. Nick tears his eyes away from it to regard Louis.

"What?"

"Y'know," Louis says, and makes a crude gesture with his hand. It startles a laugh out of Nick.

"What d'you mean what's it like? Don't you do it?"

"I'm not an Alpha," Louis says patiently. He narrows his eyes at the guy on the screen, who comes with a low groan all over his hand. Nick's chest feels overly-warm. Louis hums thoughtfully. "I mean, do you knot up every time? Can you come without—"

"Whoa, hey," Nick says. "This is getting a little personal, innit?"

Louis shrugs, popping a biscuit into his mouth. He's polite enough to chew and swallow before he speaks, at least. "I'm just curious. I mean it must be really messy. S'it worth the effort?"

He looks genuinely curious, even if his cheeks are a bit red. Nick narrows his eyes at him. "I thought you said you preferred Alphas as like, lovers. Don't you know all this?"

"I've never slept with an Alpha. Only Betas."

"What?"

Louis shrugs. "I'm an enigma."

Nick snorts. "You're something, anyway." Louis's still looking at him expectantly, so Nick nudges at Louis's knee with his foot. "Odd that you wouldn't go to one of your close alpha mates like Harry or Liam for these kinds of details. Or perhaps you're specifically interested in my anatomy?"

Louis's cheeks redden fiercely, but he juts his chin out defiantly. "C'mon, Nick, don't be a prude."

"I'm not a prude!" Nick argues, laughing. "Why are you so curious? You don't get to deal with it."

"Get to?" Louis asks, as though Nick is stupid. Nick lifts his legs onto the sofa to kick at his thigh.

" _Yes_ , get to. I can have orgasms that last like, ten minutes. What d'you get, huh?"

Louis narrows his eyes at him, and eats another biscuit before answering. "But the knot—"

"The knot is part of it," Nick says. God, he can't believe he's having this conversation. With Louis Tomlinson. Granted they've been dancing around this for the last twenty-four hours, but he was hoping for more flirting and less candid discussions on his wanking habits. Louis is still looking shrewdly at him, so Nick sighs and elaborates. "You don't like. I mean it's not _that_ much unless you're actually, like, knotted inside someone. Which I've only done once."

"How?" Louis asks, he looks much more serious all of the sudden. "With a Beta?"

"No, my best girl friend from sixth form. We both wanted to know what it was like, and, well..."

Louis is quiet for a while, and then he nods, as though he knew all of this all along, and eats another biscuit. Nick drops his head back into the sofa cushion, his heart beating a little harder than usual, a ridiculous sort of smile on his face. He jumps when a biscuit hits him in the arm, and looks back around at Louis, who's pulled his legs back up to fold underneath himself again. He's smirking.

"Aw, for an old person it certainly doesn't take much to get you going, does it?" Nick chucks the biscuit back at him and nails him in the center of the forehead. Louis frowns. "Prick."

Nick makes a kissy face at him, and Louis huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. Back to business as usual.

 

 

Afterward, they lounge around on the sofa, Louis's iTunes on in the background, an eclectic blend of pop and Indie music by bands Nick _loves_ that he's sure Harry must've downloaded onto Louis's computer. They've had nothing to do but talk to each other for two days. He knows all about Louis's sisters and mum and soon-to-be step-dad, and the rehearsal time he and the other lads are putting in before tour starts up. Nick tells him about his show and checking tumblr obsessively and worrying about the ratings and what people really think.

"A lot of them just listen because of Harry," he says. He's not as prone to general insecurities as he used to be, but this one gets to him. Mostly because he's teased for it _all the time_. It feels like there must be some truth there.

Nick's on the mattress, stretched out on top of all the duvets, twisted a bit funny so he can see Louis. Louis, curled into his chair, gives Nick a _look_. "Grimshaw, up until like, yesterday, I pretty much hated you. Like, on a spiritual level. And _I_ listen to your show most mornings."

Nick brightens up, sits up to give Louis a proper smile. "N'aww, Lou."

"It's good. Your crew is good. _You're_ good. You shouldn't listen to stupid people. Don't be so down on yourself."

Nick scoots to the edge of the mattress so he can grip Louis's calf on the seat of his chair. He's still grinning helplessly. "'Up until yesterday'?"

Louis rolls his eyes. "Is that all you heard?"

Nick shakes Louis's leg. "So what do you think of me now, then, pup?"

"Maybe I like ya."

"Are you quoting Major Payne at me?"

Louis smirks. "Maybe I like ya a lot." He's trying to look haughty, but mostly he looks fond, and Nick wants to pull him out of the chair and onto his lap. So he does. Louis comes easily, smiling too, a little self-deprecating but Nick can deal with that. He straddles Nick's lap and loops his arms around Nick's shoulders. Nick's squeezes his thighs. Louis sighs, quiet, rests his forehead against Nick's. "Shut up."

Nick kisses him. He's been wanting to throw Louis down and fuck him into a better mood for _ages_ , and now that he has him, sweet and pliant and pulling on his hair, it's so much better than he'd ever thought. His scent is overwhelming, and his mouth is soft and wet, his little hands on Nick's back and tangled into Nick's hair. Nick licks at the seam of his mouth and Louis opens up for him, gives a soft little sigh when Nick presses his tongue in. He grips Louis's round arse and squeezes, swallows the moan Louis looses and pulls him in closer.

His dick is already fattening up, and every Alpha instinct he's ever had to suppress is rearing up inside him. Louis spreads his knees wider, rocks his hips in forward against Nick's, and Nick pulls back to breathe hotly against Louis's neck, tongue over his pulse point, suck a vivid mark as their cocks press together through their trackies.

"Oh," Louis groans, another moan stuttering out of him. His fingers curl into Nick's back through his t-shirt and Nick slides his hand up Louis's skin, under his top. Louis's so little, curvy, Nick's hand spanning the entire width of his back. Louis's body is searing hot and smooth. Just touching him like this shouldn't be such a turn on.

Louis's mouth finds his again, his teeth sink into Nick's bottom lip and tug lightly. Nick groans, and Louis shivers, licks into his mouth, rubs his tongue over the roof, touches it lightly to Nick's. He can smell Louis's arousal. It's making his head spin. He wants to mark him up, fuck him, claim him. Louis tugs at Nick's top until Nick lifts his arms and lets Louis pull it off over his head and toss it away, and then Louis hands are hot and dry on his bare skin.

"God, Nick, I'm so..." he trails off like he's embarrassed, voice shuddering into a choked sound as he ruts his hips forward again. Nick gets a hand between them, grips Louis through his loose trackies and Louis gasps, so very responsive.

"What, sweetheart?" Nick asks, voice dark and low, thick with want.

Louis swallows, looks down at Nick with glassy eyes. "Wet," he breathes. Nick freezes from the shock of it, not understanding, and Louis leans in like he needs to rest, forehead against Nick's temple, humping against him helplessly. He finds one of Nick's hands with his own and guides it down, over his arse, where his trackies are damp with his slick.

It's so rare that it actually takes Nick a minute to understand, and when he does he breathes an 'Oh' and sits up, carefully, helps Louis up too. Louis doesn't let go of his hand, presses his thumb into the center of Nick's palm. Male Omegas don't happen often, one in a million sort of chances. Nick's never met or really heard of one. In school as a kid he remembers learning about them, about their biology the same way they learned about Alphas and Betas and female Omegas and mating and all of that. Nick's gay, has known it since he was very young, and the chances of ever meeting a male Omega were always next to nothing. He's never planned on having the kind of sex his body was made for, for knotting, or for the physiological bond that comes with mating. He has no idea what to say.

"Lou..."

Louis's shivering with want. He slides his hand back up Nick's arm to squeeze the side of his neck, his breath warm on Nick's mouth. "Fuck, Nick, you've got me _so wet._ "

Nick's entire body shudders. Louis lifts his head. He looks nervous and worried and so turned on, his cheeks red and his mouth wet and bruised from kissing. He looks vulnerable for the first time since Nick's met him. Nick cups his cheek, pulls him in for another kiss, slower, deeper.

This explains a lot. It explains Nick's weird protectiveness of him, his possessiveness of Louis's attention anytime they've been in the same room in the past, of Louis's possessiveness of _everyone's_ attention all the time, especially Harry's and Liam's (and, whenever they're in the same place for any amount of time, Nick's). It explains why Louis's scent is so much richer and thicker and _affecting_. He can _smell_ Louis's arousal, the pre-come beading at the tip of his cock still hard against Nick's hand, can smell his slick.

He breaks the kiss to tuck his face into Louis's neck, overwhelmed. He palms over Louis's belly, his thigh, slides his hand back around to his bum. He digs his fingers into the cleft, feels slick seep through, damp and thick through Louis's trackies and pants. His fingertips graze over Louis's wet hole and Louis whines, clutching at Nick's back, his hair.

"Oh god, please," he breathes. Nick's dick jerks, his breath catching in his throat. Louis's already backpedaling. "I mean, Nick, fuck, just—"

Nick pulls back just enough to see him, cups his cheek again. Vaguely, he feels like he should be embarrassed, that the open want on his face, that being open at all in front of Louis Tomlinson should be humiliating. But Louis's eyes are black-blown and he's panting, moving his hips in little circles like he couldn't possibly keep still. Every drop of blood in Nick's body is between his legs. He drags his thumb over Louis's bottom lip and Louis immediately dips his head to envelope it in his mouth. His tongue flits over the tip and his lips wrap around it in a little o. 

Nick's not generally a caveman type. He's an Alpha and he loves being an Alpha and every every part of it, from the strength to the influence of his voice to the inherent power that comes with it, but he doesn't give into it often, even during sex. But this driving need to pin down and take, to mark up and _claim_ isn't something he's ever dealt with before.

Louis swallows. Nick follows the rise and fall of his Adam's apple with his fingertips, and Louis hums quietly, breathes "Can you—? Please," into Nick's ear.

Nick growls low in his throat, feels it rumble in his chest when he snares Louis's lips again. He presses his tongue inside, hitches Louis closer by his arse, feels his slick easily now because Louis's so turned on, _so wet_ that's it's soaking through enough to make Nick's hand damp with it. Louis's scent is impossible, all-consuming, and Nick's whole world is spinning off axis.

"Louis," he breathes, breaks the kiss while he's still capable of speaking. Louis whines, chases after his mouth and attaches his lips to Nick's neck when Nick turns his head. Nick groans low in his throat, cradles the back of Louis's head in his hand. Louis's still rocking against him, little rolls of his hips that are driving Nick _mad_. "Louis, you need to, hey, hey, look at me."

Louis does, lifts his head up and looks at Nick like Nick's the only thing in the universe, all instinct and base animal drive, an omega with his alpha. Nick strokes his damp hair away from his temple.

"What?" Louis asks, looking sullen that Nick's trying to distract him from getting off. Nick pushes his thumb into Louis's cheek.

"I need you to tell me now how far you want this to go, because I'm. I'm gonna have trouble holding back."

Louis sighs out a breathy moan, trembling. He slides his fingers through Nick's chest hair, touches his lips to Nick's jaw and then mouths soft words into the skin of Nick's throat. "Don't hold back." Nick inhales sharply, and Louis looks up, meets Nick's eyes directly and says, a little bolder this time, "I don't want you to hold anything back."

Nick growls, lifting Louis bodily and manhandling him onto his back. Louis digs his fingernails into Nick's shoulders, and his mouth is wet and open when Nick kisses him again. Louis bites, nipping at Nick's tongue and lip, sharp little teeth sinking into the plush of Nick's mouth. Nick shifts his weight against him, presses his thigh between Louis's legs and presses in hard. Louis hisses, arches his back to rub up against Nick's leg. Nick slides his hands up Louis's sides, pushes his t-shirt up until it's bunched under Louis's arms. He's flushed all the way down to his chest, and he hums appreciatively when Nick's mouth closes on one of his pert little nipples. 

Nick leaves marks, kisses his way along Louis's torso leaving a chain of pretty bruises. By the time he pulls back Louis is whining, growling low in his throat and tugging on Nick's hair, demanding little pup that he is. He's shaking with how turned on he is, his cheeks so red and burning when Nick nuzzles at his face. Louis's lips part, his tongue swiping out to wet them, and Nick kisses him again, tongues at the roof of his mouth before he pulls back again.

He growls when Louis wiggles away to strip off the rest of his clothes, but then he's naked, cock so pretty and flushed and drooling against his belly, thighs wet with his slick and he smells like everything Nick's ever wanted. He looks a little nervous and a little defiant, but his face goes soft and blissful when Nick rolls onto his side to get a hand between his legs. He cups Louis's balls and squeezes, careful, feels Louis's little hiccup where his mouth is working at Louis's throat. He slips his long fingers further back, smearing easily through Louis's slick, touching the pads to the hot pucker of Louis's hole.

Louis's so responsive, body arching up, legs opening wider. He _keens_ when Nick pushes a finger inside, voice sounding slurred and weak. He's so hot inside, so slick and tight. Louis clutches at his arm when Nick curls a finger to rub at his prostate and Louis's blunt fingernails sink in hard enough to sting. Nick's dick is swollen hot and sensitive where it's snagged in the soft fabric of his sleep pants. He lifts his head to see Louis's face, the way his eyes are closed tight and his face screwed up in pleasure, toes curling into the blankets, biting on his chewed-pink bottom lip. He looks so small and hot and vulnerable and Nick just wants to _ruin_ him.

He pulls his finger back, smirks at the angry sound Louis makes and the way his eyes pop open. He looks dazed and needy, and he's got a little pool of precome on his stomach. Nick grabs his wrist just as Louis reaches down to touch himself, pins it down at his side, smears Louis's slick all over. Louis bares his teeth a bit, breathing hard, squirming and God, he's so much _work_ , but Nick loves it. 

He lets go of Louis's wrist but only so he can flip him over. He grins at the surprised little sound Louis makes. He gets both his wrists in one hand and pins them down above Louis's head, folding over to press a sweet kiss to the back of Louis's neck, where the baby fine hairs there are dark with sweat. "C'mon, pup," he coaxes, stroking his free hand up the outside of Louis's thigh. "Lovely arse up for me, mm?"

Louis grumbles, but obeys. Nick sits back to give him room and Louis gets his knees underneath himself, nice thick thighs tan and wet in the firelight. He keeps his arms stretched up above his head without Nick asking, fingers curling around the edge of the mattress, face in the pillows. His back rises and falls with his breath, fast and sharp, shoulder blades moving cat-like under his skin. He's sun-kissed all over and Christ, his _arse_. Nick takes a second to shed his pyjama bottoms, watches Louis shift around, spread his knees a bit, dick and balls hanging heavy and tender between his legs.

"Fucking beautiful, darling," Nick breathes. He leans over to touch his mouth to the dip of Louis's back, the base of his spine. Louis squirms, seizes up when Nick cups his arse with both hands. He squeezes shamelessly, digs his fingertips into the crease between arse and thighs. Louis's panting for breath, and he kicks at Nick weakly with one of his feet, impatient, so Nick folds over him and pushes two fingers inside.

" _Fuck_ ," Louis swears. Nick fucks his fingers into him as deep as he can, folds over Louis's back to kiss the back of his neck, the side of his throat. Louis shoves back onto his hand, knuckles white where he's clutching the mattress. He breathes Nick's name so soft and choked that Nick presses another finger inside him. Louis lets out a rough, dry sob and shoves back onto Nick's hand over and over again, relentlessly fucking himself as best as he can. When Nick manages to get his free hand between Louis's legs, Louis moans loudly at the first pull on his stiff cock and comes quick and hard, body seizing up as his orgasm beats through him.

He's loud about it, muffles a shout into the pillow and Nick can _feel_ him clamp down tight over and over on his fingers. It's unbelievably hot. Louis's wrecked and Nick's still pumping him through it, but all Nick can think about is getting inside him. It's a crazy feeling, arousal mixed up with tenderness. He wants to fuck Louis because he can't spend another second _not_ fucking him, but also because Louis wants it. Needs it. He wants to give Louis everything. 

He eases his fingers out, kisses the side of Louis's neck when he whines at the loss, trembling. Nick fits his cock into the cleft of Louis's arse and it feels better than anything ever has before and he's not even _inside_ yet. Louis growls impotently, shoves his hips back. He's still hard in Nick's hand, perks of being an omega, and his thighs are straining as he ruts back against Nick.

Nick likes the feel of it, likes the build up. He likes the sound Louis makes every time the head of his cock snubs up against his hole.

"Nick Jesus Christ just fucking—" Louis cuts off with a hot, strangled sound as Nick finally pushes in. Louis clenches up hard and Nick's eyes roll back in his head. He breathes hotly against Louis's back, and then pulls back enough so he can see Louis's hole, pink and wet and stretched so tight around him. Nick rubs his hand down Louis's spine.

"Such a good boy," he murmurs, voice several octaves deeper than usual, a growl deep in his chest. He means it as a tease, but it comes out tinged with affection, his voice rough with feeling. 

"Oh," Louis says, hanging his head down and lifting his hips up a bit more, which isn't exactly the comeback Nick was expecting. He sounds overwhelmed, voice tight. Nick rocks his hips forward just a little, and then all at once Louis's body just _gives_ and Nick sinks right in, fills him up in one slow, solid stroke until his balls are pressed up tight to Louis's bum.

"God," Nick breathes, smoothing his palms up Louis's sides. Louis tries to move, spreads his legs a bit, tries to lift his head but Nick presses a palm to the back of his neck, not quite pinning him down but threatening to, and Louis lets out a shaky breath and lets the tension seep out of his shoulders. Nick massages the base of Louis's neck, pulls out just a little and shoves back in. "God, you're..." His tongue feels thick and heavy in his mouth. He slides his free hand around to press his palm into the soft give of Louis's belly. "So good, babe, you feel so good inside."

Louis whines, works his hips back and turns his head a little, bares his neck. Nick probably shouldn't leave a mark but every instinct he has is fighting against it. There's no way the entire fucking _world_ isn't going to know that Louis Tomlinson mated Nick tonight. He closes his mouth over the sensitive skin just above Louis's pulse and he rocks their hips together, dicking into Louis again and again, pressing deeper each time. Louis reaches back to bury his fingers into Nick's hair, holding his head there, and Nick mouths at his neck, sucking each time he manages to fuck a moan out of Louis. Louis's trying to keep himself quiet, but can't, and Nick loves how he moans and writhes when it gets _really_ good, when Nick hits the right angle and Louis's whole body jerks from it. They're shoving the mattress across the floor, Nick can hear the scrape of it against the wood. By the time he pulls back Louis's got a deep purple mark on his throat and he has to pry Louis's hand from his hair.

He sits back to get more leverage, hauls Louis back with the arm around his middle. Louis's knees spread wider and his cock is dripping all over Nick's arm. He's letting out these rough little grunts that sizzle through Nick's body and brain, make him slam in harder and faster, that feeling starting to unlock low in his belly. He wants to fuck Louis full, wants to pin Louis on his knot, mate him good so that he gets this all the time.

"Oh, Nick, Nick, _oh_ ," Louis whines, arm flailing a little. Nick takes both his wrists and grips them in one hand, holds them tight to the small of Louis's back and pulls until Louis's shoulders tense up. He takes Louis's hip in a bruising grip and uses the leverage to fuck him _hard_ , feeling both wildly possessive and ridiculously tender at the way Louis cries out with every rut. Nick can see his own sweat dripping onto the curve of Louis's spine, can see how the backs of Louis's thighs shine with his slick, soaking wet for Nick and he's so fucking gorgeous. 

"Just like this," Nick demands, voice hoarse. "I want you to come just like this on my cock. Can you do that for me, love?"

"I'm, I don't," Louis babbles, and Nick squeezes the back of his neck again, changes the angle to shove in harder, deeper, and Louis tightens up so hot and so fast, nodding into the pillow frantically. 

"Yes you can, sweetheart," Nick murmurs, then pick up the pace, hammering into Louis as he holds him down by the neck and squeezes. 

He feels it on his fingers when Louis holds his breath, clenches his jaw and starts to come, whole body wracked with it, Nick's name mangled in his throat. He sobs as his cock spasms and shoots, creaming up the sheets under him, all for Nick.

Nick pulls out of him, and Louis cries out, devastated. It makes Nick's heart clench, makes him want to wrap Louis up in his arms forever. He lets go of Louis's wrists and rubs his sides, soothing, trailing kisses across his spine. "S'all right, Lou love, you're all right."

"Nick," Louis mumbles, but he doesn't say anything else so Nick coaxes him to roll over on his back, and takes a few seconds to just look at him. He's sprawled limp and sweaty and ruined, come on his belly and cock still hard, resting fat on his belly, red at the head and sore-looking. His eyes are glazed and wet and his mouth is open, legs spread out around Nick's. His gaze slides down Nick's body, to his crotch and back up, and he wets his lips and lifts his hips up, inviting. Nick swipes two fingers through the pool of come on Louis's stomach and presses them to his lips. Louis's lips close around them, tongue licking them clean. Nick stretches out over him, pulls his fingers back and kisses Louis instead, his mouth all slippery with come.

"Why'd you stop?" Louis asks, frowning, looking up at Nick through his eyelashes. Nick pushes Louis's hair off his forehead and grips the base of his cock to press back inside. Louis pulls him right in, wraps his legs around Nick's waist and digs his fingers into his back. His head falls back and he catches Nick's mouth again. Nick rocks into him, abs contracting with every thrust. Nick breaks the kiss with a wet sound.

"Want to see your face when you come on my knot," he answers belatedly. Louis groans, squeezing his eyes closed, cock twitching on his belly. Nick isn't going to last long. He palms up Louis's stomach and chest, thumbs over one of his nipples and gently clasps his hand around Louis's throat. He can feel him swallow against his palm.

"Are you?" Louis asks, and Nick nods, thumbs at the underside of his chin.

"Close," he says, "God, so close."

He doesn't want to hurt Louis, is careful, slows down when he feels it building, feels the base of his cock start to swell up. Louis's legs tighten around him, and he looks wide-eyed and lovely, all that cynicism fucked right out of him. Nick grinds in tight circles, orgasm surging fast and so hot inside him, and when it finally hits it's gutting. His knot fattens up huge and so tender inside Louis and he comes so hard it feels like he's losing his _mind_. Louis clutches at him, gasping, and Nick forces his eyes open to see his face as he comes, clamping down hard on Nick's cock, knot caught inside him, crying out helplessly, cheeks flushed and fingernails cutting into Nick's back. He's even more stunning than Nick imagined. Par for the course for him and Louis, he supposes.

He drops his forehead down to Louis's collarbone, shuddering from the pleasure, oversensitive with it. He has no idea how he's ever managed to have sex without it being like this before, this mind-blowing all-encompassing hurricane type of thing, everything just slotting right into place because of _biology_. He's still spilling inside Louis, filling him up, shaking from the intensity.

Louis rubs at his back and strokes his hair for a few minutes, until Nick can get himself together enough to move. He's still locked in tight, Louis clenched around him. Nick kisses Louis's chest, the mark he left on his neck, over his jaw and then props himself up to see him properly. Louis looks exhausted and blissed out, still catching his breath, mouth bruised and swollen. Nick touches his face, smooths his thumb over Louis's eyebrow.

"Hey," he croaks, voice shot. Louis grins up at him tiredly, turns his head to nuzzle at Nick's wrist.

"Hey."

Nick kisses him, slow and sweet, likes the way Louis breathes a soft, content sigh into his mouth, the way Louis's hands grip at his back. Nick slides a hand between Louis and the mattress, lifts him up carefully. Louis hisses, Nick's knot pulling at him, but he helps maneuver them around. Nick's still coming, slow waves sweeping through him, and he needs to lie down before he crushes Louis, so he gets onto his back and Louis settles in his lap. Gravity shoves Nick's knot up a bit deeper, makes them both groan. Nick grips Louis's hips and rubs his thumbs in the hollows, bends his legs up so Louis can rest back against his thighs. His cock is fattening up again. Nick swipes his palm over it, gives an impressed whistle that makes Louis frown.

"And you're not even in heat."

Louis shivers, grabbing Nick's wandering hands. Nick doesn't expect him to thread their fingers, press their palms together. It's sweet and Louis's cheeks flush and he ducks his head, lets his eyes close and Nick just looks at him, stomach fluttering and chest tight. Louis's so lovely. Nick sits up carefully, Louis caught between his thighs and his chest, legs splayed around Nick's waist. His scent has changed, something even better than it was before because it's _Nick's_ now, his body adapting to his alpha. He's been mated, claimed. Nick squeezes his hand and kisses him on the mouth, again and again, and then frees his hands so he can tangle his fingers into Louis's hair. His orgasm is still shuddering through him, and it's never lasted this long before but his knot isn't showing any sign of going down. He wants to feel Louis come around him again, wants to watch him fall apart again. He breaks the kiss, breathing heavy, and touches their foreheads together.

Maybe it's not just biology. Maybe it's Louis.

"Maybe I like you too," he says.

Louis laughs, sweet and honest, and he presses his mouth to Nick's again so Nick can taste his smile.

 

 

They spend the next thirty-six hours either tied together or sleeping. Nick has red welts all over his back and Louis has bruises on his hips, love bites on his thighs and belly and chest and neck. There isn't a part of Louis's body that Nick hasn't tasted and Louis's been talking in rough croaks of sound since the second time he went down on Nick in the shower. They fuck until they literally can't anymore, until they're sore and aching and even then they can't stand to be away from each other. Anytime Louis leaves the room Nick feels his hackles rise, anytime he's not inside him he misses it.

It's overwhelming and a little terrifying, how quickly attached Nick's gotten, when he's never been attached to anything before in his life. They've barely spoken, mouths too busy, and the haze of sex and heat and first mating has been all-consuming. Louis's scent is entwined with his own, even after showering and it makes Nick feel possessive and horny and needy in turns. He's spooned up behind Louis, knot just gone down enough to pull out, a tender throb at the base of his dick now. Louis's breathing has slowed down, and Nick can feel his heartbeat even out where his hand rests on Louis's chest. Louis tips his head back onto Nick's shoulder and Nick wraps him in a little closer, leans over him to kiss his slack mouth. Louis makes a quiet sound and rolls onto his back, makes a face and rolls onto his other side, facing Nick. Nick grins weakly and thumbs at Louis's pointy chin.

"All right?"

Louis laughs breathily, nudging his head up under Nick's chin like a cat. "Yeah, just. Aches inside. 's good."

Nick wraps long arms around him and closes his eyes, sighing contently. It's mid-morning, their fourth day snowed in together, and the fire is dying but Louis's little body is so hot against Nick's and the blankets are tucked tight around them. Louis's breathing is deep and even against Nick's chest. Nick is just on the cusp of sleep when Louis's mobile rings and scares the shit out of both of them.

Louis pulls away and sits up and Nick frowns grumpily, smushing his face into his pillow. Louis stretches across him to get his phone from the coffee table. "'lo?"

Nick doesn't listen, lets Louis's raspy voice wash over him but doesn't bother paying attention to what he's saying. Louis's little hand is on his back, warm, resting right between Nick's shoulder blades. Nick takes a deep breath just to feel the pressure. After a few minutes Louis rings off. Nick pokes his head out to look at him blearily.

"They've opened the resort back up. They're on their way to get us," Louis tells him. He's not looking at Nick, rubbing at his eyes instead, yawning. Nick frowns, oddly disappointed. The windows have been clear for almost a day now, snow melting, but they haven't bothered to go outside.

"Oh."

"Yeah," says Louis. They look at each other, and it's awkward now, the real world so much closer suddenly. Louis pushes the duvet off and stands on shaky legs, grabs a sheet to wrap around himself as though he's suddenly shy, like Nick hasn't seen him wrecked and bared open, tears sliding down his temples and into his hair, begging Nick to fuck him harder. "I'm gonna shower."

"Okay," says Nick, and watches him go, raising an eyebrow at Louis's stilted little smile.

He rests for a few minutes, and then forces himself up. There are three full bathrooms, so he takes his own shower and gets dressed, pulls on jeans and a t-shirt and a hoodie and socks. By the time he's done Louis is out of the other bathroom, so Nick gels his hair and packs up his toiletries, and quickly shoves his things into his duffel. When he walks back into the living room Louis's folding the nest of blankets they used. Nick helps him with the last one.

"Reckon they'll wash these, yeah?"

"Hope so," Louis says, wrinkling his nose. They put the blankets on top of the washer and dryer in the small laundry room, and then heave the mattress back into the bedroom they took it from. Nick's an alpha and has reserves of strength that come with that, but Louis is breathing heavy by the time they get it back into the bed frame. He smells so good. Nick wants to crowd him against the wall, reach into his jeans and get him off. Louis's wearing a t-shirt and his neck is covered in marks from Nick's mouth. Nick wants to touch them, darken them up a bit more before the rest of the world lays eyes on Louis.

They go back out to the living room, and Louis closes the fireplace grate. The power still hasn't come back on, so it's still freezing. Louis packs away his laptop and puts his bags by the front door next to Nick's, and then climbs into the squashy armchair he favors and curls up in it, bare feet tucked under himself. Nick stares, a little too obviously, because Louis quirks an eyebrow and then crosses his eyes and makes a fish face. Nick snorts.

"So," he says, when the silence stretches on too long. Louis's too far away. Nick drops onto the sofa and tries not to growl at him.

"Yup," Louis agrees. He folds his hands into his lap neatly, and then clears his throat. His voice is still rough. "They should be here in like, fifteen minutes."

"Right."

Louis scratches at his neck, presses against the love bite Nick left over his pulse point. Nick has never been a patient person. He slides from the sofa to the ottoman in front of Louis's chair, reaches for him, curls his fingers into Louis's sides. He wants to pull him in, get his mouth on his neck again, but Louis holds himself back. He's hiding, expression too neutral, posture too defensive. His hands hover awkwardly for a second and then settle on Nick's arms, light, non-committal. He clears his throat again. "It was. It was fun, yeah?"

Nick nods slowly. "Yeah," he agrees, wondering where Louis is going with this.

"Even if you are a filthy hipster," Louis goes on. "Was good to. To get it out of my system."

Nick's had quite enough of this. He growls, loud enough to feel the rumble in his chest, and hooks two fingers into Louis's belt loops and hauls him in. Louis gasps, balance upset, suddenly in Nick's lap, and Nick massages his lovely thighs hard enough to bruise. Louis tries to squirm away but Nick grips his chin, makes him meet Nick's eyes, faces inches apart. Louis looks mutinous, but Nick likes the challenge.

"There's no getting me out of your system, pup," he murmurs, all Alpha voice, Louis's eyes widening just a bit. Nick kisses him, chaste. "Might as well accept that now."

Louis ducks his head, and Nick appreciates the long sweep of his eyelashes against his cheek, but doesn't allow it for long, tilts Louis's chin up to see his eyes again. Louis's cheeks are pink. He curls his fingers into the front of Nick's hoodie. He takes a slow breath, but all the tension leaks out of his shoulders. He shrugs, feigning nonchalance, but he's biting his lip on a smile. He touches his forehead to Nick's. "Might as well."

 

**THE END**


End file.
